Work Text:
1992
It gradually grows worse over the minutes he’s sitting in the coffee shop.
He’s already been on edge since they’d left school half an hour ago, and the minute he steps into the tiny cafe, it’s like a brick wall of noise smacks him in the face.
He must have stopped walking, because the next thing he knows Luke is tugging him into a booth by his arm.
Alex hunches into his seat, trusting Luke to get his usual coffee order.
The voices around him seem to grow louder and louder. He can’t hear individual conversations, but the voices are overlapping into one wave of noise. Cups clattering on their plates are fireworks going off in his head, spoons clinking are shards of glass slicing through his head.
When Luke finally returns with their coffee, Alex jumps as he sets it on the table. Luke frowns and Alex can see his mouth moving, asking a question, but it’s just one more voice adding to the cacophony.
Luke must understand that Alex can’t single out his voice in the crowd, because he gently takes Alex by the arm and leads him outside.
As soon as the door shuts behind them, the noise is cut off. But the sudden change in volume is too much for Alex.
He pulls away from Luke and stumbles to the side of the coffee shop, sinking to the ground.
His head falls into his hands and he closes his eyes. The sun is too bright, the cars rushing by are too loud, Luke is sitting to close. It’s all too much and tears well up in his eyes.
Then a hand is prying his fingers away from his face, and Alex fights it until he realizes Luke trying to help him.
As Alex lets his hands be pulled away, Luke places headphones over his ears.
Most of the noise drops away, and all Alex can hear is the gentle strum of the intro to Under the Bridge.
His brain is still on overdrive, but it helps having only one thing to focus on.
Eventually, his senses seem to settle, and he tentatively leans his head on Luke’s shoulder. The guitarist doesn’t pull Alex closer, which he’s grateful for, but he leans his head on Alex’s shoulder.
Alex lets himself zone out, alone with only the words of Anthony Kiedis filling his head.
He waits until the song is over before pulling the headphones off.
“Better?” Luke asks softly.
Alex nods, not trusting himself to speak.
Luke seems to understand, because he stands up. He dusts off his pants before holding a hand out to Alex.
“C’mon. We can talk later, but I get the feeling you want to go someplace quieter?”
Alex nods again, grabbing Luke’s hand and hoisting himself up. The guitarist doesn’t let go, instead letting Alex lean on him as they make their way back to the studio.
When they make it inside, Alex collapses on the couch. Luke goes to flop on top of him, before thinking better of it.
Alex is so grateful for his friend and his perceptiveness that he almost cries again.
Luke must see the tears in his eyes, because he immediately protests, “Nonono, don’t cry, ‘lex!”
Alex laughs and settles into the couch, closing his eyes. As he drifts off to sleep, he can hear Luke picking up his guitar. His friend lightly strums the beginning chords to their latest song, and Alex can finally relax.
When Alex describes the experience to his friends later, they decide to do some research. They stumble across the term sensory overload , which basically means his brain gets overwhelmed with all the information coming from his senses.
It doesn’t really help to have a name for it, but it does help to have his friends.
The boys are so understanding, so willing to do whatever helps him best, his heart is about to burst with his love for them.
His boys come up with a system for him, depending on how bad it is and who can help him best. Bobby is usually the one to help him, which surprised all of them.
Bobby always seemed to be allergic to emotions, but he turns out to be the best at dealing with Alex’s overloads.
Luke can’t sit still long enough to bring Alex peace, and Reggie just can’t resist the urge to give him a hug, so that leaves Bobby.
The fourth member of their band surprisingly knows exactly what Alex needs when he’s in the midst of a meltdown. He knows to get the drummer away from other people, to block out as much noise as possible, to keep the touches far and few between.
They have a system, and it works. Bobby is best at dealing with it in the moment, Luke and Reggie are better at handling the aftermath.
The overloads leave him exhausted and ready to go to sleep, and Reggie and Luke will gladly accompany him, whether they’re curled up close to him or just linking pinkies.
They become good at sensing when Alex is on the edge of breaking down, at what situations will cause him to stress enough to trigger one.
Alex has his boys, and he’s so grateful how far they’re willing to go for him.
Until suddenly four becomes three and one is left behind and four turns into one with three gone ahead, and Alex’s world shifts on its axis.
2020
Alex is stressing. He’s been pacing up and down the studio for the better part of ten minutes, and he can tell Julie is close to calling him out.
Luke has gone to visit his parents and Reggie is watching Ray cook, leaving just him and Julie in the studio.
Which sucks, not because he’s uncomfortable around Julie, but because he can tell he’s on the edge of breaking down and he doesn’t want to freak her out.
As he turns around to pace to the doors, Julie finally speaks. “Okay, what’s got you so worried?” she asks.
Alex stops, standing in front of where she’s sitting on the couch. “Sorry, Julie. I didn’t mean to…” he trails off, not quite knowing what he was going to say. His fingers tap nervously on his leg, and Julie pats the space next to her.
“That’s not what I said. I asked what’s wrong.”
Alex sits heavily next to her, bouncing his leg. He feels like the constant rhythm of his foot hitting the ground is the only thing staving off the impending overload.
“I’m just-worried, about a lot of things. Caleb, Willie, this whole tangibility thing. Everything’s changing.”
Julie leans against him, but what should be a comforting gesture just sets him off. Suddenly it’s too hot in the studio, the tapping of his foot is too loud, the feeling of Julie’s skin on his is too much and then he’s pulling away from her.
“Sorry,” he gasps, stumbling away from the couch. “I just need-to go.. Space.” He’s sure he didn’t make any sense, but all he can think about is getting away from the unyielding stimuli.
He poofs up to the loft, tucking himself into the darkest corner.
He tries to tap out a beat to match his breaths to, but he’s tapping too slow and he’s suffocating, then it’s too fast and he’s hyperventilating.
He tries to think of all the grounding methods he and Bobby came up with, but all he can focus on is the incessant pounding in his head.
He can hear Julie rummaging around downstairs, and it feels like she’s right next to him, dragging chairs around the loft.
Eventually he hears her footsteps climbing the ladder, and he covers his ears and closes his eyes as the noise gets closer and louder.
He can sense Julie settling in front of him, and she gently taps his leg. He peels his eyes open a crack, and is greeted with the sight of her holding headphones.
He gives her what he hopes is a grateful smile, and places them on his head.
The sound of a gentle guitar fills his ears, along with soft singing. He’s never heard this song before, but he likes it. It’s soothing, and he can feel himself winding down again.
He goes through the next three songs, each more calming than the rest, he accesses his body. The sunlight no longer feels like it’s slicing through his brain, and he doesn’t feel like throwing up from the feel of the wood floor, so he thinks he’s settled enough to take the headphones off.
Julie looks up from her book and smiles at him. He’s glad she wasn’t worriedly watching over him the whole time, that would have been a little weird and more nerve wracking to him.
He smiles back at Julie, and decides not to apologize. He doesn’t want to ruin the peacefulness in the air, so instead he stretches out next to Julie. She puts her book down and lays down next to him.
He links their pinkies together, and she somehow manages to squeeze his finger little with hers.
Eventually, he decides to break the silence. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he almost whispers.
Julie drops his pinkie and instead grasps his whole hand. “Don’t apologize,” she says. “I just want to know what triggered you and if what I did was okay.”
He turns his head towards her, and is met only with concern. “It was a sensory overload, in case you didn’t realize.” he finally says. Julie only nods encouragingly, so he continues.
“I don’t really get them that often, just when I’m really, really stressed. Everything just becomes too much, like my anxiety is enhancing my sense but my brain can’t catch up. It wasn’t anything in particular that set this one off.”
Julie absorbs the information, before asking, “If it ever happens again, do you want me to do anything differently?”
“You actually did really well,” Alex says, surprised at how well the singer had handled his breakdown.
“I actually used to get them myself,” Julie says. “That’s where the music idea came from, that album always calmed me down.”
“What song was that, by the way?” Alex asks. “I really liked it.”
“The band is called Coldplay, the album is Parachutes . That first song is called Don’t Panic , ironically enough.”
Alex huffs a laugh. “Well, do you think you could show me how to get some music on the iPod you gave us? For the next time this happens?”
“‘Course, old man.” Julie jokes.
“Hey!” Alex protests halfheartedly. “Thanks,” he says, squeezing Julie’s hand. He hopes she can tell he’s not just talking about the promise of help with technology.
“Of course, Alex.” She says. “Thank you for trusting me to help you with this, when you could have gone to get Luke or Reggie instead.”
Alex shifts closer until their arms are touching.
“Love you, Jules.” he says in lieu of an answer.
“Love you too, ‘lex.” Comes the response.
There, laying on the floor with Julie at his side, Alex is at peace.